The all-purpose grunt. “Huh. Live with The People for six weeks and you end up in Indian Territory.”

Dinner with Father and Mother glaring at Duncan was uncomfortable in the extreme. Father’s day at the office, probably spent complaining loud and long to everyone there, made him dig in with admonition and advice neither of us wanted.

After dinner, he took Duncan into his study and closed the door. Or tried to. Father didn’t realize he was dealing with both Elizabeth Ann the Fierce and Her Smile, not to mention Kaya the Hawk. He did not take it well when I barged right in, too, and refused to leave. Father ignored me, told Duncan what he thought and said that there would never be a penny of my inheritance given to me, not one, not then and not ever.

“Sir, we will manage,” Duncan said, when the accusations and railings against fate ended, leaving Father in a silent stew, his face red.

“I have twenty dollars,” I told my wealthy father. I stood up, still clutching Duncan’s hand.

“Then what?” Father demanded.

“We will manage,” Duncan repeated, tightening his grip on me. It couldn’t have been easy to listen to vitriol directed at him in particular and Indians in general, but I knew he had been through much worse, up to and including a long walk, the loss of his mother and a herd of horses, and total defeat. Father had no idea who he was dealing with. Railroad lawyers? Unions? Huh. Child’s play.

Father stormed from the room, grabbed his hat, muttered that he was going to his club, and slammed the front door on his way out. I never saw him again.

Mother was quiet all evening. She hugged me before I went to bed. “I wish I could help,” she said. “I daren’t.” I understood.

We left early in the morning before any of the household was up, or so I thought. Phil had arranged the night before for a carter to take my trunk to the depot, so all I had to carry was my valise, which Duncan appropriated, exchanging his lighter grip for my much heavier one.

“Wait.”

We were out the door and on the steps when Mother stopped us. She had thrown on her robe. I had never seen her on the front porch in anything less than full dress, so I stared for a moment, then gladly let her pull me close and hold me tight, also a first.

She tightened my muffler. “Dress warm, Elizabeth. If you get a cough, you know what kind of pharmaceuticals I use. Watch out for drunks and keep your feet dry.”

It was a curious collection of wisdom from a woman who generally thought out every careful, correct sentence. She glanced over her shoulder and motioned us closer. She pulled out a wad of greenbacks big enough to choke a giraffe, and handed it to Duncan.